Human Again
by Parkerbrookz
Summary: Believing that they have finally defeated the devil, Alex, Tom, and Hal suddenly find themselves human again, until sinister echoes begin reminding them that all is not perfect in paradise
1. Sleep

**All characters are, of course the property of BBC**

**Also, reviews are greatly appreciated, so please let me know with any questions/ comments you may have, and why you did/didn't like the story!**

The television chattered happily as Alex crammed another biscuit on her mouth, all the while complaining that she was far too full to take another bite; she was having trouble stopping.

"Nobody is making you eat anything," said Hal, mildly exasperated.

He was in a strange mood. One that he couldn't quite place. Human again. _Human_. Human. An odd word for an odd condition- the human condition, to be precise. Rather cliche, but true. There were so many new horizons... He had a reflection again, and a soul, and a heart that beat like a drum in his wide chest. He couldn't quite believe it. After all these years... now he was always turning around to check his reflection in the mirror behind the bar in the living room of the Honolulu Heights Bed and Bath in Barry, Wales. For first time in more than five hundred years, he, Hal Yorke, could see his own reflection...

His nose was larger than he remembered, and he was beginning to realize that short hair really _did_ suit him better than he'd originally believed. He kept running his fingers across his face, watching as they moved in real-time in the mirror. He shook his head. It was unreal.

"Nobody's making me _stop_ eating either, I see," Alex smart mouthed through a face full of biscuit, bringing him back to earth. Bits of biscuit crumbled onto her face. Without meaning to, Hal reached over and brushed a crumb from her dainty chin, his finger lingering on her soft white skin. She looked startled for a moment, and the laughed, a wide-mouthed, full-voiced laugh. Hal pulled away, surprised and confused, feeling heat rise to his face for the first time in five centuries. "Oh my god! Oh my god, Tom, look, I think he's blushing! Our Hal is blushing!" Alex guffawed, punching Hal in the arm, getting crumbs on his dark grey zip up. "I honestly didn't think you were the type."

"Ow," said Hal morosely, rubbing his upper arm and brushing away the crumbs. "I'll have a bruise there in the morning, you do realize."

"Oh, Shut up ya big baby. You're worse than wee Ryan with his dumb tattoo! He cried. Actually _cried_, when he saw it in the mirror." With that, she stretched out on the couch, gingerly resting her head on his shoulder. She wiggled her toes in the air and sighed. "It feels sooo good to finally take off those fucking boots. Not to mention that ghastly-but-totally-sexy-bra." She winked at Hal and he flushed again, blood pinking his no-longer-pale cheeks. "By the way, thanks again Tom for the clothes," she said, turning to look at him, "I couldn't stand another minute in that stupid dress."

Tom nodded sheepishly. It was strange seeing Alex in different clothes. In _his_ clothes, to be exact. The tank top and cargo shorts suited her surprisingly well, although he knew McNair would have thought them unladylike.

He was beginning to realize that despite all of the good advice that McNair had given him over the years, his father had been mistaken about many things- in particular, the enigma of women.

"No problem Alex, glad yah think it suitchya," he said, watching the TV. Her bare, narrow shoulders felt strange to see, almost pornographic. The leather jacket and green dress almost seemed like a part of her now, as permanent as her eyes or her hands, and the change of clothes made look like an entirely new person. "I think we should-"

"Oh, oh, be quiet," She exclaimed, cutting him off, "They're about to announce the price!"

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><p>Later that night, After Hal had brushed his teeth, done his press-ups and re-aligned all of his books on their shelves and gotten into to bed to read, (more out of habit then necessity: now that he knew he need never worry about the bad Hal again, the old routines were a little pointless) there came a knock at his door. "Come in," he said distractedly, looking up, mildly irritated at having been interrupted in his rereading of "Watership down." It was a favorite book of his, one which he'd read on numerous occasions. The pages were soft around the edges, worn from too much handling. It was familiar text.<p>

"I guess I can't rent-a-ghost in here unannounced and catch you by surprise anymore, huh?" said Alex, squeezing through his door. She was still wearing Tom's shirt on the top and- to Hal mortified realization- only underwear on the bottom. He'd never seen so much of her before... Her legs were long and athletic from years of playing swing ball and other sports with her three brothers. She might be small, but she was far from frail.

"Can I, um, help you with something?" He asked, struggling to keep his eyes and his voice level. He'd never been very good with women. Especially not beautiful ones.

"Yeah, I was wondering if you had any idea where we kept the linens." She scratched her head in embarrassment "I realized none of the beds in any of the other rooms were made up. I never bothered to find out where the sheets were, because I didn't need a bed before, since, you know, ghosts don't sleep." She said the last bit in helpless humor, making it clear that her time as a member of the deceased still weighed uncomfortably heavy on her mind.

"Uh," Hal realized he had no idea where they kept fresh sheets. Annie would have known. It was Annie who had given him this room, Annie who'd made up beds for Leo and him when they'd first arrived, along with Pearl, at Honolulu Heights all those months ago. "I haven't a clue. Maybe you could sleep downstairs? Under that ridiculous furry blanket Tom dragged home last week for the sofa? I'm sure it's plenty comfortable."

"Uh-uh. No _way_ am I spending my first night's sleep in _four bloody months_ downstairs on the sofa like some trampy li'couch surf! No sir!" She planted her foot firmly on the floor and crossed her arms, looking for all the world like a statue of consternation. And then, for the very first time, she noticed the size of Hal's bed. "Say, that's at least a full, right?" she asked slyly, her pixie head tilted ever so slightly to the left as she sized up the situation.

"What are you getting at?" Hal asked warily, setting down his book on the nightstand.

"There's more then enough room in that big ol' thing for the both of us, dontchya think?" she suggested with sly glee. Hal looked uncomfortable. She rolled her eyes. "I'm not gonna try anything, Hal." She said. "Besides, I thought you didn't have to worry about being a chaste little school girl now that your 'curse has been lifted' and stuff. You're free to do wha' ever the bloody hell you want."

"It's um, not that," He closed his eyes briefly. "I was just, uh, wondering if perhaps you'd be a little more comfortable sleeping on your own."

"Naw, I've shared beds before plenty of times." She caught the look of surprise and embarrassment on Hal's face and laughed. "Not like that." Then, with a twinkle in her hazel eyes, "Well, not always like that. If it makes you more comfortable, I'll go and grab a couple'o the pillows offa the sofa to make a little partition between us—" She stopped mid-sentence and raised her eyebrows, soliciting a response from him.

"Oh fine, you can spend tonight in here. But just tonight! I'll help you find a proper bed tomorrow." He rolled onto his side and picked up his book again. He felt the mattress move as her slight weight sunk into it. His heart beat a little faster as he realized how close she was to him. How near their bodies were in the intimate setting of his room.

"Whatchya reading?" she asked quietly, her warm breath tickling the back of his neck. He stiffened, instantly on defense.

"It's called Watership Down, Alex, and it is a book that I wish to continue reading at the moment," He said, a little too brusquely. He felt her turn away from him, and immediately regretted his harshness. She'd told him on several occasions that he had terrible people skills, and it was true. So very true.

A half hour later, he set the book down and got up to turn off the light. As he stood, he realized that Alex's eyes were trained on him, and she was far from asleep. He could see fear in her eyes. Fear was an emotion with which he was well acquainted, even if he did not often experience it. Quietly, he sat back down beside her. "What's wrong?" He asked, remembering his harshness from earlier, and doing his best to make amends for it.

"I can't fall asleep," she said quietly. Much quieter then he'd ever heard her speak before. It was unAlex-like. "It feels so much like dying. Like drifting away. Like becoming- what's the word?- ah, intangible. And what if I dream? Jesus, what if I dream about when I died? Or all those poor people Hatch killed! What if I dream about them? All bloody and scared and sad and dead. Like I was." Her eyes were wide in her pale face, and all her good humor seemed to have gone, transformed by fear. Hal wanted nothing more than to banish that fear, but he couldn't find the words to do it. He'd never been very good at offering comfort. Something else to add to the list of thing that he was terrible at. "Do you ever dream about them, Hal?" She asked suddenly.

He inhaled sharply, unprepared for this personal question. "Who?" He asked carefully, narrowing his dark eyes. He was sure he knew what she was talking about, but couldn't bear to speak it.

"All of the people you've killed," she whispered. He sighed, his head dropping. Shame twisted in his gut. Why? Why did she have to ask him that?

He looked so forlorn that she risked moving closer, not quite touching him, but narrowing the distance greatly. He either didn't notice, or he didn't care.

"Every night," he said at last, still not looking at her. "I dream of them every night. All the faceless thousands. Although, god, for me, they are not faceless. Oh no," He barked a humorless laugh, "I always remember their faces, their names, the words they cried out as they died. Who was brave, who begged, who cried. I_ can'_t forget a single one of them. They are so real to me, like reflections in a window pane. Always staring back."

"That's awful." Her hand brushed his leg, a friendly, kind gesture.

"Isn't it?" he agreed, all of his senses on point with her touch.

"What about when you're bad Hal? Do you remember them then?"

"No, not then." He hesitated, and then admitted, "I think it's part of the reason behind my ache to return to him. To evil and murder. He is fearless, and remorseless: a hedonistic brute. He knows no pain, no guilt. Do you know what it's like, not to feel any guilt?" she shook her head, not sure what to say. "_It feels like being free_."

They were quiet for a minute. It was a far from comfortable silence, as both of them reflected on the depth and implications of what he'd said, and then Alex asked, tentatively. "Hey, um," She squinched her eyebrows together, "would you mind reading me some of that book?"

He was caught totally off guard. "Huh?"

"Watery Down, or wha'ever it's called."

"Watership Down?" He corrected absentmindedly, running his fingers over the fading cover.

"Yeah, that." She put her hands behind her head, relaxing into his soft pillows. They smelled not unpleasantly of clean sweat and the high-end shampoo that Hal liked to use on his hair.

"I'm half way through it though," he protested, picking the book back up. "I'm afraid it's not going to make any sense to you."

"Doesn't matter. Just start where ever. Doesn't bother me." Hal realized that she was offering him a way to comfort her. A way to put her at ease.

"Okay then. Let me explain it a bit first." He did. And then he opened the book to the page that he'd carefully marked with a plain brown leather bookmark. "When several creatures—men or animals— have worked together to over come something offering resistance and have at last succeeded, there follows often a pause…" He began, then paused and looked down at Alex. Her eyes were closed, and her head was tilted towards him. He could see the eyeliner she'd worn for more then two months beginning to smear off. It almost looked like she'd been crying

"Don't stop, toothless," she said after a moment, opening one eye, then closing it and nuzzling deeper into his bed and closer to him. He smiled, just a little bit, and continued to read, his refined voice swinging over the words with the fluency of someone who has nearly memorized the text that they are reading. Before long, Alex, stopped moving restlessly, and settled into a comfortable position, facing towards him. Her breathing was easy, but he could feel the intensity of her listening.

He didn't stop until he heard her give a gentle snore.


	2. Birds and the Bees

**All characters are, of course the property of BBC**

**Also, reviews are greatly appreciated, so please alert me with any questions/ comments you may have!**

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><p>"Uh, 'ello..."<p>

Hal woke up with a start. Alex was wrapped up in his arms, her head pressed against his bare chest. He must have taken ahold of her sometime in the night. For a moment, the entire world fell away. His heart was racing. Where was the blood? It should be everywhere! Blood. On the sheets, on her soft white skin. Red hot blood. But no, there was nothing there. No blood. Only a warm, sleepy Alex, all tangled in his sheets.

No blood. For the first time in five centuries, he didn't ache for it. Didn't want it with every fibre of his being. Instead, he wanted only to curl up and fall back asleep. It was elating.

"This is about the birds and the bees, innit Hal?" Hal looked up sharply, noticing Tom for the first time. " 'Cept not the kind you find inda woods, or the kind McNair taught me about right?" Tom was facing the wall, carefully not looking at Hal's bed, where Alex still lay sleeping. Hal realized what it looked like.

"No. No no no," He said emphatically, carefully untangling himself from Alex's legs. Sunlight streamed in through the curtains, warming her cheeks with a rosy glow. How could she ever have been dead? She looked so alive.

"But-"

"Trust me that is not what is happening here Tom! We were just- She came in here last night and- I swear this isn't what it looks like!"

"Haaal?" Yawned Alex blearily. "Weryah going? It's still early." She opened an eye and looked up at Tom, who was still refusing to turn around. "Oh, hey there." She snuggled back down into the sheets. "It's rather cold in heyah. Funny feeling being cold. I fink I like it." Her short hair was mussed up, and she looked like a sleepy hedgehog, blinking in the early light,

"Are you and Hal doin' the sex?" Asked Tom, all in a rush, his discomfort evident in the way that his hands gripped at his arms.

It was Alex's turn to sit up in shock. She turned to look at Hal, raising her eyebrows and turning down the corners of her mouth in a manner that Hal found both intriguing and infuriating. It was so silly, so cute, so... Alex. She was clearly doing her best not to laugh out loud at Tom's question. "Oh god Tom, pal... I, well, uh, hah. A: Did you just seriously call it 'The Sex'?"

"He did."

" And B: We are so totally not."

"Oh good," exhaled Tom, shuffling around to face them in obvious relief. "That'd 'ave been awkward. I made us breakfast, by'tha. A good, propah breakfast, all by myself, for tha three of oos."

Alex was out of bed in three seconds flat.

* * *

><p>"Oooo sausages? Orange Juice? Waffles?" Alex went on to list several more foods as they exited Hal's room together in a little clump, all close together, knees and elbows bumping. It was a little awkward, but surprisingly comforting. All the human nearness.<p>

Downstairs, the table had been set with three places, and a bouquet of flowers Tom had pulled from the back ally floated in a dusty vase. The plates were heaped with substantial helpings of eggs and bacon, and sides of buttered toast. A steaming kettle of tea- prepared just the way Annie taught him- rested on a multicolored tea cozy in the center of the table. It was the very picture of pleasant.

"I am _impressed_!" Alex said, turning to give Tom an admiring look. "Who knew you were such tha lil' homemaker?"

"I _can_ cook," He admitted with a proud shrug. " 'Specially summat like the eggs. McNair taught me al'bout thah."

"Just not about sex," muttered Hal under his breath. Alex punched him again, in the same spot as yesterday. She had remarkable aim "Ow!" He flinched away from her.

"This is really great Tom!" She exclaimed, plopping down into her seat and pouring a big mug of steaming hot tea, Which she took a deep gulp of before either Tom or Hal could stop her. She sputtered and coughed as the sudden extreme heat registered in her mouth, putting her hands to her lips as though that could cool the burning. "Oh my god, that's bloody fucking hot!"

"It usually is," replied Hal with more than a touch of sarcasm as he sat down beside her.

"I hink I hurned mah hung," she mumbled even as she began to tuck into her food.

"Jesus Alex, do you _ever_ stop?" said Hal, picking at his food. Alex shrugged and took another bite. Hal shook his head in disbelief. "I am truly amazed that you have maintained your petite figure in the face of the simply _vast_ quantities of food that you consume."

"Oi!" she gave him a scathing look, "Watch it, toothless. Say Tom, we have any scones?"

Tom thought about it for a few seconds. "Nah," He replied, shaking his head.

"I believe you ate the last of them yesterday, along with the hot chocolate and coffee," Hal coughed. "As well as more than half the food in this household."

"Then we totally need to do a run today. Stop by the Safeway and pick up some essentials." Alex said, stretching back in her chair. She'd thrown on one of Hal's bathrobes, and it was surprisingly luxurious.

"Wha'bout work?" Tom said suddenly, turning to Hal.

"Bollocks!" he exclaimed. "I forgot all about it! _And_ my morning routine!"

"Your pecs can wait till later, big boy," teased Alex, happily munching on her toast. "You're not gonna save anyone with press ups, or dominos, or a rota, or any of that bull. You can stop worryin' now! I say we three take the day off to enjoy being human."

"As nice as that sounds, Alex, being human doesn't pay the bills. Which, might I add, are _above_ exorbitant on this place. I hate to break it to you, but if you do decide to stay with us, I think you should consider getting a job to help out. And also, if the rate at which you are currently eating is any indicator to a trend, then I believe we shall soon be in the poorhouse."

"Oi!"

* * *

><p>"I bet loads of places are hiring after yesterday," pointed out Tom as he and Alex walked through Barry. Hal had kicked them out of the house earlier so that he could clean without them getting underfoot, and so the two of them had decided to try job hunting. "Maybe you could get a job as a barristah!"<p>

"What _is _with you and the barristers?"

"I think they're dead classy," He quipped honestly. Alex shook her head in playful disbelief.

"You're such a _loony_. Besides I think I might need some kind of degree or something to be a barrister. Besides, i don't think I'm really tha barrister type. I'd probably be behher off getting a job as a bartender, or a waitress."

"Maybe you could even geh a job a'the hotel!" realized Tom eagerly. "We could work together, all three of us! We'd never'av to be apart. You could work in the kitchens, I can be assistant manager, and Hal can be righ'up a'tha top."

"Woah-oh-oh, slow down there tiger," said Alex, putting a restive hand on his eager shoulder. "I'm not exactly a hundred percent sure I'll be stayin' here yet."

"Oh, thas'righ." His shoulders slumped down. "I forgot you still'avent decided whether or not you're gonna stay with us." Alex felt guilty every time she upset him. It was like kicking a puppy.

"I still need to see my family before I can decide what I want to do. It's not tha' I don't wanna stay with you an Hal, it's jus' tha'," She made a small exasperated motion with her shoulders and hand. "This is all _really_ strange. I mean, my dad and my brothers, they saw me _dead_, they fucking buried me! _Months ago_. How can I jus' pop and be like, 'hug and kisses everyone, guess what, I'm not _actually_ dead! Hope you didn't mourn me too hard' No, I need to figure out how to do it properly, an' that might take weeks. So in the mean time, I think I'd like to go on livin' with my boys."

"Annie used to call us that." His face scrunched up.

"Huh?"

"She used to call us 'er boys, Annie did. And it was Annie wot taught me to cook, really, not McNair. And how to make a good cuppa. I wonder what she'd think if she was still around. I mean, of all this." He spread his hands wide, attempting to express the enormity of everything that had happened to them in the last few days. Something that had nagged in the back of Alex's mind since she'd first discovered that she'd become human again finally niggled its way to the front of her brain.

"Hey Tom. All the other ghosts. Do you suppose they became human again too, like me?"

"I s'pose so," said Tom, not exactly paying attention.

"What about ghosts like Mary, who've been dead for ages? What'bout all the people who died yesterday? Do you think some of 'em just popped up again, all alive and human again? Gawd what a thought. 'Spose it happened?

"I dunno Alex. Nuffin' like this 'as ever happened before. The last time somebody messed with the supernatural things, and the propah order of life and stuff," he thought for a moment, "well think it was when Mitchell went through a Door to go git Annie back. And then those zombies 'append, and apparently it was joost a hellofa mess. I 'ope nuffin like that 'append again, honestly." He touched the back of his head, where his scars had once been- a nervous habit- and was once again surprised to find the skin grown over with hair.

Alex sighed and looked up at greying sky. "Let's grab a drink."


	3. Pub Mates

**All characters are, of course the property of BBC**

**Also, reviews are greatly appreciated, so please alert me with any questions/ comments you may have! I adore feedback, so if you loved/hated the story, lemme know!**

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><p>The inside of the pub was dark and quiet. It was a good old-fashioned building, with heavy oak tables and smoke stains on the ceiling from bygone years. Alex swirled a glass of white wine with her right hand. "You know, the last thing I did before I died was have a drink at a bar. Well, two drinks actually. The one I bought for me, and the one I bought for Hal. By the time he showed up, I was half drunk. I guess it helped numb tha pain a little later. Not a lot, but a little."<p>

Tom looked uncomfortable. His big ears stuck out, even more obvious in the half-light of the pub. He didn't really fit in with is pullover and his trainers. He looked too young to be at a bar, even though Alex knew he was twenty-one. He'd told her all about the unfortunate mess that had been his twenty-first birthday. With Kirby, and Annie and Hal.

_That was another era, _thought Alex._ An era before me. Before I stumbled into the café and into their lives and this strange, strange world_.

"So, Tom," His head perked up and he looked at her with the most honest eyes she'd ever seen. She'd never met a person like Tom. He was almost like more of a little brother to her then a flatmate.

"Wot?" He asked.

"Tell me. What's it like, being a real boy now?" She put her elbows down on the table and leaned closer.

He looked at her for a moment uncomprehending, then nodded his head, understanding. "It feels like... like sommit is missing." He pressed a big, calloused hand to his chest. "Sommit that was evil, but a big part of me, yeah? Like this thing wot identified me for my whole life is jus' gone. Like the wolf jus' walked away and left me here." He stopped, and then looked back down at the table. "I wish Allison were here."

"Maybe you could ring her up," suggested Alex. "Invite her to visit." Tom half shrugged, half nodded.

"Wot about you and Hal?" He asked.

"Me and Hal?" She laughed, and then turned serious. "I honestly don't know. Like I told him yesterday, all of this is still ten kinds of weird. I don't know if I'm really in the mental place to be making relationship decisions. Hell, any kind of decisions. I actually think I might still be in shock." She rested her cheek on her hand and sighed. "What do you think about new Hal? Good Hal. Not rip-out-your-fucking-throat-and-drink-your-blood-like-a-black-eyed-luny-with-fangs Hal."

"I think he seems fine. Like himself, right. He's a good man, he is. In his heart."

"Do you think Bad Hal- Lord Harry- is gone from him? Is he just good now? Or is it more like- did you ever watch Star Trek?" Tom shook his head. "Well there's this episode where Kirk- He's the captain- He gets spit into two different people. One of them totally evil, the other one good. In the end, it turns out that they can't survive if they stay separate. It's like, the good and the bad have to come together to make him a whole person. I dunno. 'suppose it's like that? That Hal can't survive without Lord Harry, and vice versa?" She sat back in her chair, crossing her legs. "Food for thought," she mused. She swallowed her last sip of wine and looked at him like she expected an answer. He just shrugged a little. "You are like the king of non-comitment. Say, you finished with your drink too?"

He looked down at his empty bottle. "Yeah."

"Any good?"

He didn't have much of a head for alcohol, and it never sat very well with him. He only ever really drank when he was angry or upset. "McNair didn't ever allow really allow me ta drink," he said by way of explanation, "Said it messed with your judgement and your perception of depth, and that if a vampire jumped yah while you were drunk you were more liable to hurt yourself then 'im. So i guess I never really developed at taste."

"Oh, that's too bad, I guess. What do you say we head over to the Safeway- Morrisons- down on Penny way. Say, isn't Penny Way a Beatles song?

"Nah," Said Tom as he stood up and put on his coat. "You're thinking of Penny Lane, I reckon."

"Look at you, mister Pop culture encyclopedia!"

Tom looked at her sheepishly. "McNair and I had a cassette in tha camper when I was little. We jus' had some Beatles, Clash, and XTC's English Roundabout. Dad used to let me listen to 'em while we was setting up camp sometimes. Said I focused better with the music. I wrecked it one full moon, I think. He used to lock me up in there durin' the transformation. Said it was too dangerous for me to go out with him. We might rip each other up or sommit."

"Oh my god, you mean you might've attacked him?" They left the pub. It wasn't very late in the day, but the sky was already dark and overcast.

"Maybe. The wolf does funny things to your head. We was always careful to drag out chickens far apart from each other, just in case. We was a pack and all, but that don't mean it was safe for us to be close. He turned real mean as a wolf. They used to use him for dog fights, vampires did. It was before I was born, or turned. But I think it changed him. Made him hard. On me and the world. He didn't trust nobody. Not even George and Nina, although they was Werewolves too. He was a good man, though. I wish you could have met him Alex. He would 'ave loved you."

"Yeah, me too." Secretly she knew that she and McNair would not have gotten on very well. From what she'd dealt with from Tom, she got the feeling that McNair'd been more then a bit old fashioned. He wouldn't have approved of her swearing, or her wearing mens clothes. It wasn't terribly far to the Safeway, but a light misting rain had begun to drizzle down, and she was relieved when they stepped into the bright halogen light of the Safeway.

"What do you think we should pick up?"


	4. A Good Man

Hal cleaned like his life depended on it. He had his bucket of cleaning supplies and his spotless marigolds. The kitchen was already done. Alex's mess had been agitating him, and cleaning it up had given him temporary relief from the itching discomfort he experienced when ever he was not active. Even without the threat of evil lurking beneath the surface, like a shark in a tepid pool, he found that he was having trouble functioning properly with out his schedule. He contemplated drawing up another rota, but he knew that Tom and Alex thought him ridiculous when he did that. Maybe if it was a secret rota... No. He sat down and took a deep breath. Maybe a little meditation would help. Just something to settle him again. He looked up at the clock. It was close to three thirty. An hour and a half before work. It was usually an eighteen minute commute...ninety minus eighteen was seventy two, and seventy two when divided by four equaled eighteen. It was a nice, even, logical set of numbers, and it did something to calm his mind. He wondered what Tom and Alex were doing. Alex...

The thought of her was enough to slow him down. Last night had been one of the best of his life. His throat was sore and his voice was scratchy from the hours of reading, but it had been worth it. Her lanky body next to his, her breathing and heartbeat in time with his. Two puzzle pieces, fitted neatly together in his bed. She could be obstinate, and she hit like a street fighter, but there was something about her that he couldn't bear to be apart from. _Soulmates_? He banished the thought from his mind almost as soon as it materialized. He was terrible at dating. More of the love 'em and leave 'em type, although usually when he left them, they were no longer alive. Hell. They usually weren't even in one piece by the time he was done with them. _God_. He shuddered and stood up. He needed something to do. Something that engaged both his body and his mind.

"I'll search for the linens," he said out loud to nobody in particular. "And I'll make up a room for Alex. There must be a cupboard around here somewhere. Perhaps on the second floor." He took the stairs at full tilt, appreciating the strong, steady new beat of his heart. He searched methodically for fifteen minutes before he found the correct piece of cabinetry in one of the unused rooms. Everything was tucked neatly away inside, folded up and smelling of camphor and mothballs. Before he was sure what he was doing, he'd torn each sheet neatly in half and dropped it on the floor, stamping on it with his foot until it was dirty and ragged. _There_.

"Why on earth did I do that?" He asked, his eyes retreating beneath his heavy brow._ Because you don't want to give her an excuse to sleep somewhere else_, whispered a tiny, niggling voice in the back of his head._ Because you want her all to yourself. _"No! It's not like that!" Y_ou want her, Hal._ The voice in his head was sinisterly insistent_ .If you were Lord Harry, you would have had her ages ago. Look at you now. You've been_ _defanged_. Hal felt like the world was tilting underneath him. He sat down on the bare mattress of the room where he'd found the sheets, pressing his fingers against his temples. _What's the matter with you? _He looked down at the dirty, torn sheets. If Alex saw these... _I need to toss them. Quickly, before the others get back. _He gathered the pieces up into his arms and hurriedly dropped them in the skip out back. A light rain was falling, so he rushed back inside. He was dusting his hands off when he heard the door open.

"Heloooo. Hal, we're home!"

He was frozen for a moment, like he'd been caught doing something bad. But he hadn't. Everything was tidied up. It was okay. "I'm in the kitchen," he called back, breathing out. _Everything was okay_. His legs felt like jello and he promptly sat himself down in a chair.

"We come bearing food," Alex announced grandly, barging into the kitchen with her arms full of grocery bags.

"That's good Alex," said Hal without getting up. He didn't trust his legs just yet.

"Help me put it away, will ya Mr. Posh Manners." She dropped the bags to the floor like they weighed a ton. "Whew. Thank god I had Tom to help me with all these. I think my stomach is bigger then my arms. An unfortunate side effect of living with a bunch of barbarian brothers your whole life, I suppose." She reached into one of the bags and pulled out a tin of tomato soup, then looked back at Hal. "Any day now."

"Yes. Yes." He stood up too quickly, nearly tripping over the leg of the table. "Jesus." He caught the edge of the table before he could fall, but knocked the chair on it's side. He hadn't felt this unstable since he'd gone through withdrawal before Natasha had agreed to feed him. It was only days ago, but it felt like half e century. He shuddered.

"Christ Hal!" Alex was looking at him with concern. "Are you okay? Have you been drinking?" She took a step towards him, her eyes narrowed. "You haven't gotten into the Kia-oira, have you?"

"No," he snapped loudly, gesturing her back. "I haven't."

"Fine, ya wacko," She said, taking a step back in startled disgust. "No need to blow a fucking fuse. I'll put away by myself." She returned to shelving canned goods and produce, her strong shoulders forming a hard line. She slammed down a glade air freshener on the counter. "For you."

"Alex, i didn't mean to-"

She held up a hand. "Save it Hal. I don't need one of your bullshit apologies." Her hand wavered towards the air freshener, like she was thinking of making a joke, but she stopped herself.

"But, I don't want to... I mean, I hope I haven't upset you." he was recovering his cool.

"It's fine."

"No, it's not. I, I didn't mean to snap at you. Please forgive me Alex."

"Fine," she said, turning around. "But you owe me a drink. And dinner. A really nice dinner. At one of those posh places."

"I know jus' the one!" said Tom, sticking his head in from the living room. "It's dead classy. Management gives you ties an' everything, if you need. And they 'ave a whole bunch of fancy italian food, and they pu'bread baskets on the table too."

"Okay, yes. Dinner and a drink it is."

"And hopefully, hopefully I won't get killed by one of your _luny_ friends this time." She crossed her arms. "I'm just getting used to the luxuries of being alive again."

"Cutler wasn't my friend," countered Hal.

"That's debatable. You two certainly seemed pally enough to me. Sitting around, drinking my blood together."

"How many times are you going to bring that up!"

Alex rolled her eyes. "I think it's my right to bring it up whenever I so please. Isn't that right Tom?" The last bit was directed into the living room, where Tom was standing, listening intently into their conversation. He stuck his head in again

"I reckon she's right."

"See!"

"Why is it always you two? Why do you always gang up on me?"

"I reckon it's because you're a stone cold killer," admitted Tom.

"But I'm not!" He insisted. "Not anymore! You've seen the proof- I'm human again."

"Becoming human again doesn't give you a new ledger to replace the old bloody one that you've got already," Alex reminded him. "All of those people you killed, well, they're still killed."

" 'cept the ones that 'ung around as ghosts. They're all probably alive again." Piped up Tom.

"Shush Tom. What I'm trying to say is, Hal, this, being human again, it isn't a fresh start. It's not back to square one. You can do good things for the rest of your days, but it won't fix the mistakes you've made. The good doesn't clear away the bad." She paused for a moment, thinking. Hal's head was hung low. Her lips quirked a little and she continued. "But believe me, that doesn't mean you shouldn't do your best. You're a good man, Hal." He looked back up at her, hope and surprise glistening in his dark eyes. "Tom and I both agree on that. Maybe you can't change the past, but you can do your best to change the future. Everybody has an impact Hal, everybody. From now on, do your best to make it a good one."


	5. Dial A for heartbreak

**ll characters are, of course the property of BBC**

**Also, reviews are greatly appreciated, so please let me know with any questions/ comments you may have, and why you did/didn't like the story!**

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><p>Tom retreated to his room, leaving Hal and Alex to finish their discussion. He might be clueless in the face of most social interactions, but he understood when a conversation didn't involve him. He grabbed an old magazine off of the stack on his desk beside the window. It was a little dark in his room, but he liked it that way. Pulling out his pair of scissors from the night stand drawer, he settled onto his unmade bed, leaning back against the blue pillows, and began flipping through the pages of the magazine, looking for articles or pictures to hang on his wall above the white fireplace mantle. Everything was neatly hung- thanks to Hal- and it made Tom happy to look at it. Tiny tin soldiers marched in rows across the top of the mantle, along with an assortment of other toys. When he'd first asked Hal and Alex about sex, they'd come up with a theory that he might have been delayed through the mental and emotional stages of puberty. That he'd used up all of his energy during the full moon, and had not progressed at a normal rate. Sometimes he thought they might be right. But then, Bad Hal had told him that Good Hal thought that he was quite smart, and it was all very confusing.<p>

Tom scratched his head, rubbing again at the place that his scars had once been. He felt very mellow and couldn't seem to focus. He wondered if it might have been the beer. Binning the magazine- there'd been nothing good in there any way- he replaced the scissors in their drawer and took out the two stakes that he always kept at his bedside. He rolled one of them in his hand. Back and forth. Back and forth. He'd named it Duncan. The wood was smooth, stained red in places. _My best stake, _He thought. _Killed a lot if vampires with this_. "I guess I won't be needing it no more though." He tossed it in the bin on top of the magazine and the other rubbish. Then he reached back in and took it out again. "Maybe, jus' in case. 'sides this was Alison's favorite stake. _Alison_!" He stood up, stakes forgotten in a jumbled heap.

There was a scrap of paper beneath the plastic rainbow slinky on his table. It was crumpled, and soft as cloth. The numbers on the had long ago faded from over handling, but it didn't matter. Tom had memorized them months ago. It was Alison's phone number.

There was a phone downstairs behind the bar. It was to this that Tom now ran. His hands were trembling as he lifted the phone off of the receiver. He dialed the number wrong the first time, and had to hang up and dial again. Somebody picked up on the other end after the third ring.

"Hello?" The voice was gruff- that of an older man.

"Is Alison there?" Tom tried not to sound too enthusiastic. It was a struggle.

"Who is this?" The man on the other end sounded suspicious.

"I'm a friend of Alison's. Alison Larkin. We met in Barry a couplah months ago. My name is Tom. Tom McNair. Could you put 'er on the phone please?"

"A friend of Alison's you say? Alright, fine. She'll be down in a moment."

Tom was gripping the receiver so hard that it hurt. His palms were sweaty and he could feel his heart beginning to race. _Alison_. His Alison. _The one_. He had missed her terribly since she'd gone away. A few moments passed before he heard her voice on the other end of the telephone. "Tom?"

"Alison! 'ow are yah? I'm fine. We're all fine. Well, not all of us. Eve an' Annie are gone, and Alex is dead- was dead- she's alive again, so it's okay. I've been practicing my debating. Do you still 'ave your Blue Peter Badge? The one wot gives ya free access to hundreds of attractions and museums around the country? How's school?"

"Woah, woah, slow down there soldier!" He closed his eyes and sat down on the bar stool, smiling. Why had he never tried calling her before?

"I'm sorry. I jus' got excited. How 'ave you been?"

"Actually, something really strange seems to have happened, Tom. I was going to phone you the other day, but I realized I don't have your number, unfortunately."

"Is it about the wolf?"

"Yes! Wait- Has it happened to you too? I tried googling it, but it seems that our kind aren't exactly techno-savvy. Nothing really helpful came up."

"It's uh, a little difficult to explain."

"Try me. I'm _really_ good at understanding stuff, or so I've been told."

"I dunno where to start."

"Start with after I left, I suppose. Get me up to speed."

"Well, after you'd gone, Alex got killed, and she became a ghost, like Annie. And- I'll give you the short version I guess- then the Old Ones came, and It turned out that the only way to stop them from doing all sorts of terrible things, little baby Eve had to die. So she and Annie done got themselves blown up, but it was okay because the Old ones died too, and Annie got her door. Then it turned out Hal had drunk some blood- Alex's actually- and he went sort of bollocks, so we had to tie him up in this special chair for months and months until he got okay again. Eventually we let him out, and we both got jobs at this dead classy hotel. I'm assistant manager, and it's not jus' window shopping or nuffin' I've got real power and responsibility. Well anyways, It turned out that this old bloke in a wheelchair- Captain Hatch- who was one of the guests was actually the Devil. He was the one who made all of those people kill themselves yesterday. Well Alex and Hal and I performed this ritual thing and we killed him good and proper, and then all of our curses got lifted. We all turned human again."

"Wow," Said Alison after a moment. "That's really amazing Tom."

"An' so, um Alison, the reason I was calling was, ah," he took a deep breath. "I was wondering if you wanted to give it another go, now that we're all human again and everything. I was thinking' we could visit on weekends and call and stuff."

"Oh, Tom, I'm so sorry," His stomach dropped. "But I've um, I've met someone. We're both at school together, and he's becoming a lawyer, and-"

"Oh," Tom felt his heart breaking. It was a true physical ache like nothing he'd ever felt before. Not even when McNair had died.

"I kept waiting to hear from you Tom, but you never called me. I started thinking you'd moved on, and so, well, I did the same."

"Oh," He said again.

"I'm so sorry Tom-" He put down the receiver.


	6. Comfort

**All characters are, of course the property of BBC**

**Also, reviews are greatly appreciated, so please alert me with any questions/ comments you may have! I strive to write the best story I can, so let me know how I'm doing.**

* * *

><p>They both went quiet at the sound of Tom slamming down the receiver. Hal had made his amends, and Alex had excepted them. They had been reconciling. Now they peeked into the living room to see what was the matter with Tom.<p>

He was sitting awkwardly on a bar stool, leaning against the counter. His head was resting in his big hands and his shoulders were shaking gently. Little wet sob by noises came from his hunched form.

"Is he... crying?" whispered Alex to Hal. She looked as confused as he felt. Neither of them had seen Tom cry before.

"I think so," replied Hal in an equal whisper, "Shall we leave him to it?" Hal was no good at comforting people. Especially not grown men, emotionally stunted or otherwise.

Alex looked at him and rolled her eyes "No, of course not." With that, she barged into the living room, taking long striding steps towards the huddled form of Tom. She had plenty of experience with dealing with and comforting boys. She sat down on the stool beside Tom, swinging so that she was facing him. "What's the matter?" He didn't answer. Derry used to do that too. So she pushed a little harder. "Does it have something to do with girls?" She'd hit the mark. Tom wiggled deeper into his hands, and said something that came out muffled from between his fingers. "What's that?" Alex leaned closer.

Tom lifted his head, and his eyes were red and shimmery with unshed tears. He didn't look like himself. "Alison." was all he said. Alex had never seen him so emotional before. Even the betrayal of Lord Harry hadn't shaken him this badly. It was disheartening to behold.

"What's the matter with Alison? Was that who you just rung up?" she asked, putting her hand on his back. She'd talked her two oldest brothers through plenty of break ups before, and she had a feeling that something of that ilk had just occurred to Tom.

He nodded his stubbly head. "She's moved on. Jus' like Cutler said she would. He warned me, he did, said she wouldn't wait up for me. And she didn't. Found another bloke, an' he's going to be a lawyer, an' she'll be a barrister. They're better suited for each other an'ave more in common. Jus' like he said."

"Cutler? You mean the one who killed me and locked you up in a club on the full moon? Christ Tom, I don't think you should be taking to heart anything he said to you. Anybody who monologues like that is not to be trusted." Tom sniffed and rubbed at his eyes aggressively, smearing away the tears.

"Bu'he was right, wasnhe? I thought she was the one, y'know? Bu' I was wrong. She has another fellah." Tom's eyebrows slanted even further upwards, and he looked even more the part of a sad, hurt puppy.

"Well, Tom, you know, jus' because she's going with another bloke right now doesn't mean that she will be forever," Alex confessed. "Now, I'm not saying that you should hang around waiting for her to change her mind," she corrected hastily, "That's not healthy. I'm jus' saying that maybe someday in the future, you two might find yourselves together again. In the mean time, I really think you should try some casual dating." _Maybe I'm not really the one to give romantic advice, _she thought, _seeing how I ended up dead and still single. _She looked over at Hal. _I am still single, right? _The night before felt like a dream.

"Casual dating?" Asked Tom, like he'd never heard the term before. _Then again, knowing him, he might not have, _thought Alex wearily.

"Yeah. You know, find a cute girl that you like who you think might like you back, and you ask her out on a date."

"Like for dinnah?" He asked, blowing his nose on a hanky that Alex had had no idea he possessed. He seemed to be cheering up a little.

"Yeah. Dinner, a drink, maybe a movie. What sorts of things do you like doing?"

"I like Antiques Roadshow, an' hunting vampires. And hotel and luxury management. Ooh an' sparklers. McNair used to give a sparkler on me birthday."

"Oookay. Well unfortunately Romeo, you can't really do any of those things as a date." Alex ran her hand through her short hair, thinking. "Suggestions, Hal darling?"

Hal came the rest of the way out of the kitchen, a little hesitantly. "I suppose, Tom," he said, "that the first thing to do will be to find a girl that you really like. Somebody beautiful, and funny and clever. Somebody who you want to spend all of your time with. Someone who makes you a better person." He said all of these things while looking directly at Alex, his warm brown eyes unwavering. She was wearing a different shirt of Tom's today, along with the same khaki cargo shorts, and she looked ravishing. He'd never thought a girl could look attractive in men's clothing. He'd been utterly mistaken. Alex, Alex, Alex. His want for her was a physical ache. When had he used that term before? It took him a second, and then the memory hit him. _Sylvie_. His beloved from another age. A woman so splendid, so fair yet foul-mouthed. A woman who bore remarkable resemblance in her mannerisms to Alex. The realization floored him.

Alex, meanwhile, had caught his glance. She felt giddy warmth rise up within her. "I totally agree with Hal. You need to find somebody who you can be mates with first, and lovers second. Somebody who you can argue with, but still have a place in your heart to love." She looked at Hal as she said this, but there was a distance in his eyes that had not been there a moment ago. It was a look that she recognized as a sign of internal struggle. But what was there for him to struggle with? The monster was gone, and he didn't have to worry about hurting anyone ever again. Sure, he still had his problems. Plenty of them. The strangely spotless kitchen was evidence enough of that. But she... she wanted to be there to help him through them. That was what mates did, right? Help each other?

"I don't want to let her go," mumbled Tom. It took Alex a moment to remember their discussion.

"Tom," she touched his shoulder. Tom needed help now, Hal she could work with later. "I'm not saying that you should let her go. The first person you love... they stay with you forever... I'm jus' saying that you shouldn't get hung up on her now. You two haven't talked for, well, months. She might have changed in that time. You certainly have."

" 'ave I?" He asked, still sniffling. Alex and Hal's words were working wonders on him.

"Totally. You've grown up so much Tom. You've become this jus' wonderful person. I am so glad that I got to know you, and be here with you. With both of you." Tom turned a round and hugged her- actually hugged her!- tightly in his arms. "Oi, get off now you big soppy love puppy," she said, grinning. Tom Let go,, his expression sheepish. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah," he admitted, even managing a weak smile, "Loads."


	7. All the World

**All characters are, of course the property of BBC**

**Also, reviews are greatly appreciated, so please alert me with any questions/ comments you may have! I strive to write the best story I can, so let me know how I'm doing.**

**Also, I may be out-of-pocket for a bit here, so the posts may not happen every night- Sorry! I will do my best to keep on top! **

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><p>Hal removed his dominos from their mahogany box which rested on his white desk by the window. He lifted every domino individually, and with great care, setting it in its particular place in the spiral he was forming. An intricate pattern representing rebirth and second chances. Each small ivory piece, with its button black markings, told a separate story of his struggle to stay clean.<p>

They represented his first two years of sobriety, one of the most utterly difficult and trying times in all of his complicated existence.

Leo had given him the first one the day he'd decided to go cold turkey. He gave Hal a new domino every week there after for more than two years. The day he stopped giving Hal dominoes was also the day that he and Pearl had taken the boards off of the windows. The day they deemed him safe. There were one hundred and ninety dominos in total. Each one reminded him of the strength it took to stay good and stay sane. The struggles he'd endured, and the friends that he had lost. Some times the weight of everything he'd undergone swelled up until they were almost too much for him to bear. It was in times like those that he he'd take out his dominoes, line them up as careful as you please, and then take them down, one by one. It was the epitome of self-control. A trick for staying on top. Even now, without the threat of resurgence, he found himself reaching for the comforting familiarity of his domino set when he needed to think.

Alex... Sylvie... How had he not noticed the resemblance before? It was striking. Not only were their temperaments almost exactly the same, but their physical attributes were also strikingly similar. They had the same sparkling hazel eyes, the same dimpling cheeks and wide, grinning mouth, same stately stature. His hand trembled, nearly upsetting the dizzying rings of his creation. He steadied it.

His attraction to Alex made sense now. His love of Sylvie had remained imprinted with in him, and now, after discovering Alex, he was trying to once again express that love. It was nothing more than that, obviously. _Of course it's more than that_. The voice was back, whispering in his mind. His conscious? Perhaps. He flipped a domino between his fingers, back and forth, back and forth. The repetitive motion was soothing to his troubled mind.

What did he feel for Alex? It was a difficult question. When she'd been a ghost, he had felt mostly pity, along with a healthy helping of self-loathing. Now that she was alive again, and they were both human... It was hard to say.

There was certainly something there. He had only to think back to the night before to be certain of that. Did she have feelings for him? Almost definitely. He'd seen the way that she looked at him when she thought that he wasn't watching, her eyes tracking the motion of his hands, even as he did something as menial as clean a toilet. Want. There was no mistaking it. He often watched her in the same way. Her small motions, the quirks of he face, the way that she spoke to him, with startling frankness and humor. Her flirtation was intoxicating. He found himself wanting her to be his and his alone.

No, that was wrong, he realized after a moment of thought. That thought was one of possession. Ownership. He didn't want to own Alex, what he wanted was to be owned by her. To be wholly hers. That was another startling revelation. His eyebrows knit together. It was a dangerous thing, wanting; desire. It did terrible things to a man. He was evidence of that, if ever any was needed. Broken, reduced to tedious routine, unable to enjoy his new humanity, unable to embrace it. Desire had defined him for the better half of five centuries. Want had driven him to commit unspeakable acts. Acts that still haunted him. _No_, said that mental voice with fervent passion, _you shall not think of that now. You shall not dwell on the past. Not today. Today you shall think only of Alex, your Cherie amour. Of dates and kissing in the rain. _Hal was a romantic at heart, it was true.

"Well I do owe her dinner and a drink," he muttered aloud. "Is it a date? Should i make it a date? Does she actually want it to be a date?" He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. It was all so very confusing, wooing and such. He had once been a great romantic. Able to charm even the most chaste of women into his bed, but now, why, he was like a child! A babbling idiot, incapable of carrying on even a simple conversation without upsetting his lady. His Alex.

He gulped, aware of the tremble in his hands. What if Alex walked in on him this way? Shivering like a new-born calf! He would not abide that. Setting down the domino, he paced around his small room, hands folded behind his back. "To be or not to be," He said out loud, enjoying the sounds of the words as they rolled off his tongue. "To date or not to date. That is the question."

He eyed the telephone near the door. A reservation could be made, perhaps for tonight, at some nearby establishment of superb repute. He would spirit her away from the house for an evening of romance. He would rediscover the art of loving, and he would be doing it with Alex. A pleasant smile crept over his normally somber features, and he began to softly sing Fred Astaire's rendition of "You're all the world to me" in a voice that was both mellow and fine.

"Everywhere that beauty glows you are,  
>Everywhere an orchid grows you are,<br>Everything that's young and gay, brighter than a holiday,  
>Everywhere the angels play you are."<p> 


	8. Alex and Tom

**All characters are, of course the property of BBC**

**Also, reviews are greatly appreciated, so please let me know with any questions/ comments you may have!**

**Sorry that this one is so short- I'll try to write a nice long one this weekend!**

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><p>Alex liked making tea. The timeless routine of it relaxed her. Tom sat at the small table by the window, drawing patterns with his finger in the pot of sugar. Although he was no longer close to tears, his blithe mood was gone. He was quiet, and a little removed, staring at the uninhabited the chair that sat across from him. Alex could almost hear him replaying the conversation with Alison inside his head. Poor bloke. She'd been there herself, more than a couple of times. Hell, she'd been there with Hal. Hal, who was acting even more unbalanced than usually lately. The episode in the kitchen earlier had her a little concerned. He was acting so strange. Granted, strange was the order of the day when it came to Hal. Still... "OW!" She gasped, pulling her hand back her hand from the stove top, thoroughly startled. Her fingers were singed and already starting to blister. As a ghost, she'd never had to worry about getting burned, so she often forgot to use a mitt when lifting the kettle. She'd just touched the scalding hot metal with her bare hand. " She stuck her fingers in her mouth like a child, doing a little dance of pain.<p>

"Wot's the matter, mate?" asked Tom, looking up and noticing her antics with mild interest.

"I burnt my fucking hand!" She said through a mouth full of fingers. "I forgot that I could feel things. Like with my hands. Ouch!"

"I wish I couldn't feel things. Like feelings. Do you think twice to the pub in one day is a bad thing?" He scratched the back of his head glumly with one hand. It was becoming a habit.

"Maybe jus' a little," answered Alex in distraction, her teeth grit, looking through the draws for a first aid kit. "Do you know where the bandages are?" The burn was pretty bad. She could still feel pins and needles shooting up through her arm, the pain spreading through her body like a cancer. Pain was a good thing right? The damage wasn't too bad if you could still feel the pain.

"Oh, yeah. I got a whole bin full of the like upstairs in my room. Back in a minute." Alex sat down at the table while Tom hurried upstairs to find the kit. His noisy search was audible even from the kitchen, as was the loud crash followed by "I found it!" and the patter of his heavy boots on the steps. He entered the kitchen, lugging with him an old green army rations box. "Bandages and things are in here," He said, rummaging through the bin, discarding a couple of old stakes and a container of what looked like stale biscuits on the floor. He pulled out a three-foot long gauze strip that looked like it might have been used world war two and tossed it to her. She caught it clumsily with one hand.

The palm and fingers of her right hand were a startling shade of red, puffy and swollen. It was amazing how quickly a body reacted to hurt. "Got any burn cream or antibiotic in that kit of yours?"

A little more rummaging. "Yeah." He tossed her a crusty old tube of American Neosporin ointment. "McNair always preferred this stuff. Said it was bettah than wot we could get here." Alex took the bandage and ointment over to the sink. Turning the tap to cold, she let it run for a moment before gingerly placing her hand beneath the faucet. She bit her lip to keep from gasping as the water washed over the blistered skin.

"Ooh that does _not_ feel good." She allowed the water to run over the burn until the searing pain dulled to a low, throbbing ache. Then, gingerly, she patted her hand dry with a dish cloth, wincing. Slathering her skin with ointment, she turned to Tom. "Help me?" She asked, holding out the bandage. "I can't tie it with one hand."

Tom was surprisingly gentle with the wrapping, tying it just tight enough that it wouldn't fall of. "Gotta leave it loose, so it heals proper like," he explained. "McNair taught me all 'bout first aid and things. In case I eveh'ad to care for him. Like if he got hurt or summat."

"What else can you do, Tom?"

"Cardiopulmonary resuscitation," He answered, proud that he'd remembered two such tricky words. "An' I can splint a leg or arm. Did it to meself once when I was 'bout eleven. Fell out of a tree, branch broke right under me, Made a real dog's dinner o'it. Used my old shirt and the crap branch to the meself up." She'd never noticed it before, but Tom's left arm was a little crooked- indicative of a poorly healed fracture.

"You set your own arm?"

"Yeah," He shrugged, "it was a bodge job, but it held up till McNair could fix it up propah for me. Hurt bad though."

"You didn't go to the hospital?"

"Nah, McNair always said 'ospitals was a bad idea. What if you got stuck there during the full moon? Also, lots of vampires hang round'em, with the blood bank and all. Not the safest place for a werewolf, really."

"Not gonna have to worry about that now though, hey?"

" 'spose not," he said, packing up his battered old case. "Anyways, you should be all behhah now." She wiggled her fingers a little bit.

"Yeah. I'll jus' have to try and avoid kettles for a while. Might develop a phobia."

"It's alrigh', I can make us all tea from now on," said Tom seriously.

"I was joking," said Alex. "Although you do make a bloody good cuppa." Tom's chest inflated with pride, and for the moment, Alison retreated from his mind like a grey cloud retreating from the sky. "That's my boy," said Alex, smiling and touching his shoulder with her uninjured hand. "That's my Tom."


	9. Management

**all characters are, of course the property of BBC**

**Also, reviews are greatly appreciated, so please let me know with any questions/ comments you may have!**

**I apologize for the erratic posts, and also for the brevity of this particular chapter. I promise I'll post an extra long one tomorrow to make up for it! Who else is excited for Hal and Alex's date? It's sure to be full of misadventure and fun! ;)**

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><p>"Yes, uh, hello," Hal did not like the telephone. "This is La Belle Vie, yes? Yes. I'd like to make a reservation. For tonight. How many? Two. Yes. Just two. Alex and I for, um, dinner tonight. Time" He looked over at the clock on his night stand. It was almost time for his shift at the Barry Grand. He'd received a call from the hotel owner requesting that he come to work to help with the aftermath of the previous day's events. It would be a long evening "How late are you open?" He usually got off at nine. "Oh, that's good. Very good. A reservation for nine thirty then. A rather late dinner, but no matter. Good day to you as well sir... er, Ma'am. Apologies." Hal hastily replaced the phone on its cradle. He had just enough dress in his crisp white shirt and black suit, knotting the bow tie around his throat, feeling his pulse as he did so. The beat that signified his newfound life. It was amazing.<p>

His car sputtered and started, coughing fumes, and he drove to work. It took him exactly eighteen minutes.

Walking through the doors of the hotel, the first thing that struck him was the smell. It was sickly familiar. For more than five hundred years, he had worn the scent like a fine cologne. It was death, and the Barry Grand reeked of it. The smell had permeated the patterned carpet and the walls, sinking into the wood work. He knew from experience that it would never quite wash out. Everything would need to replaced. In fact, it might just be easier to tear down the building and start fresh. He told this to the older gentleman who was the purveyor of the establishment, Mr. Morgan.

"If only I could," said the old man in a watery english voice. He was small and old, with runny eyes magnified behind thick lenses that he frequently had to remove to wipe away the moisture that collected in the corners of his eyes. His tweed coat hung loose on his old frame, and shivered as though he were perennially cold. "personally, I'd be glad to never have to set foot in here again." His eyes were pale blue and nervous, flicking around the room like he half expected to see a ghost haunting one of the arm chairs. "That is, in fact the reason I called you here." Hal looked at him with sharp interest. "You've done a fine job here, Harold."

"_Hal_," He corrected, smiling forcibly. He'd only met the old man twice before, and both times he'd insisted on call him Harold.

"Quite right, Harold. You are diligent, and the guests all like" Mr. Morgan gulped and corrected himself "_Liked_ you. Such a terrible tragedy. So many good people lost." He shook his grey head. "Well, the fact of the matter is this: you are simply a natural at hotel management, and well, my wife and I were wondering if perhaps you'd like to take over the business. We are moving to Florida in a few months. Quiet retirement. All of this" He swept his hand, indicating the blood-soaked lobby and stained dining hall walls. "It is absolutely too much for us to deal with. My wife simply refuses to step foot in here again, and no one we know is quite so qualified as you to run it, chap." Hal looked at him, stunned. It took him a moment to recover the ability to speak.

"What, exactly do you want me to do? I have no money. I can't pay for repairs. I haven't the best credit. How could I afford such a place? Why, the water bill alone must cost a small fortune!"

"You needn't worry about any of that, Harold. Agnes and I would still own the old place, pay the bills and such. All we are asking is that you be in charge of running it. Redecoration, re-staffing, necessary things such as that. We would sit back and take a small part of the profit, while you pocket the lion's share, and perhaps in a couple of years you'll buy the old place from us, eh?" The old man nudged him in the ribs and Hal winced. "It's a good plan, old chum, I suggest you think about it for a day or two. Mull it over and get back to me. In the mean time, let's assess damage."


	10. Shall We?

**all characters are, of course the property of BBC**

**Also, reviews are greatly appreciated, so please let me know with any questions/ comments you may have!**

** Again, so sorry about the inconsistent posting. I'm doing my best to juggle this in along with the rest of my responsibilities. A couple of positive reviews would give me a much needed boost**

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><p>Before he'd left for work, Hal had told Alex not to eat dinner. He'd also told her, in gentle, Hal-ish words, to find something nice to wear. Basically, something that didn't belong to Tom. She contemplated putting her green dress back on, but she shot down the idea as soon as it entered her head. That article of clothing was totally cursed. Besides, she'd worn it the last time she'd gone on a date with Hal, and, well, look at where that had gotten her! No, she decided. This date called for something new. Something that prudish Hal would definitely blanch at. She employed Tom to go shopping with her. Some fresh air would do him good. Besides, she couldn't very well leave him to mope around the house alone. As a ghost, that had been her job, and she knew how it could deflate the soul.<p>

There was a decided lack of Ladies' clothing shops in Barry, she was beginning to realize. Alex only remembered seeing one or two on High Street while she'd galavanted around with her dad and brothers all those months ago. Speaking of her family, she still hadn't decided how exactly she was going to approach them on the subject of her un-death. It would be awkward, and definitely more than a little weird. It made her feel uncomfortable thinking about it, so she washed it from her mind.

The air outside was fresh and damp after the early rainstorm, and the sky was still grey. Alex liked to go for a donder after the rain. The whole world felt freshly pained and clean.

It was a bit of a haul from the B & B to High Street, though, and Alex's feet were aching by the time she finally found a store. She'd been forced to wear her boots, because Tom had the feet of an elephant, and none of his trainers fit her. She looked like a baby duck, tripping all over it's big, flapping feet. She was beginning to wish that she'd thought to raid Hal's neat closet upstairs, at very least to see what her options were. Granted, she could imagine the look of displeasure on Hal's face if she were to accidentally step into a puddle and ruin the leather of one of his carefully preserved dress shoes.

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><p>The store smelled like her gran's closet. Mothballs and old lady smell. Clothes hung from hangers, grouped together in no particular order, musty handwritten tags advertising low prices that were attractive to Alex's slim wallet. She'd had three tenners stuffed in her bra when she'd died, and it was this money that she was now spending. Ghostly diddy money. The thought made her laugh out loud. The shrew of a woman that ran the shop looked up disapprovingly. Tom hung near the front of the store, as close to the dusty, fly-specked window as possible. He didn't like small, dark spaces.<p>

Alex wondered if Hal wanted her to wear a dress. It was hard to imagine ever wearing another one of those ill-fitting, ride-up-your-arse garments again.

Most of the racks were full of crap. Old person clothes that probably found their way to the store posthumously and would molder there for all eternity. There were a few cute things- like a black lace V-neck shirt that cinched tight under her breasts- that she gathered into her arms. There was even *_gasp*_ a dress that she picked out to try on. The fitting room was basically a wooden crate with a curtain and a mirror. Alex stripped down, feeling strange as she did so. Taking off her clothes still felt strange. The lace shirt looked mighty braw on, and she turned slowly, appreciating the way it highlighted her curves. "Looking fair bonny, you cheeky lass," she said to her self. It was something her father often told her when she dressed up fine. It was what he'd said the night that she was getting ready for her date with Hal.

The rest of the clothes were utilitarian for the most part. Things that she could wear to the store, or about the house. All told, she ended up purchasing two pairs of fitted jeans- literally the only two in the store in her size- and five shirts, including the lace one. The dress didn't make the final cut. It totaled up at twenty-seven quid. She had just £3 left.

Tom felt relieved when Alex announced that she was ready to go. The pinched old lady behind the counter had been watching him like she expected him to try and steal something, although why anybody would try to steal something out of that manky old shop was a mystery to him.

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><p>She was sprawled out on his bed, her nose buried in the spine of one of his fading old hardcovers. He waited for a moment, standing it the door way, watching her eyes move over the page. She had never seemed the reading type, but there was a lot about Alex that he apparently didn't know. She looked up after a moment, one eyebrow swooping upwards "Oooh I'm getting a creepy stalker vibe, Hal. Standing there, not saying anything." She said, moving so that she was sitting on the edge of the bed, her stockinged feet dangling to the floor. "It's pretty weird."<p>

"I am immensely sorry, but I was over taken by your beauty," He said, only a little sarcastically. She really was _quite_ a looker. She'd bought new clothes, and they fit her to a Tee. He could see the curve of her body under the clinging fabric of her shirt, and he did his best not to stare at the plunging neckline, which left her creamy throat and chest quite bare. He was still a man of delicate sensibilities, which was surprising, when juxtaposed with his deviant criminal past life. All of the bare skin in this century sometimes shocked him. "The shirt becomes you. But then, I imagine a burlap sack would look glamorous if you were to wear it.

"Flattery will get you far, ya sexy tally," she said, preening a little. "This book, by the way, is total shite. Not even remotely sexy." She chucked the book, and he caught it, turning it so that he could read the gilt spine. It was a first edition of W. Somerset Maugham's _Of Human Bondage_.

"Alex, this is one of the greatest works of literature in the english-speaking world!" He waved the book at her in an accusatory manner before setting it gently on the night stand. It was another old gift from Leo.

"Yeah? Well, it's totally lacking in the sexy romps department. I was throughly disappointed." She grinned, her small mouth opening wide. "Ready to go, toothless?"

"Certainly," he said, offering her his arm.


	11. Dates

**My continued apologies for the ****erraticism of the posting. Thank you to all my lovely readers for sticking this out with me! Special thanks to NoraFreeze, Sckrillaz, and Tangentially Hal for the reviews! :)**

**As always, the characters and the world that they inhabit belong to the BBC, to whom I am eternally ****grateful!**

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><p>The restaurant was small- what some people might call "Intimate." The delicious aroma of cooking food wafted out from the kitchen and onto the pavement outside. Alex felt like a cartoon, floating half a foot off the ground and following her nose, the smell a physical presence. Hal kept his hand around her waist, which was probably good. Otherwise she might have floated away. He also insisted on opening the door for her, which was a little old-fashioned, but still very sweet. He was an honest-to-god gentleman. She supposed that Tom was gentleman too, but he lacked Hal's finesse.<p>

Murmuring voices, punctuated by bouts of raucous laughter greeted them within, as well as a waiter dressed in dapper waistcoat and bow tie who seated them immediately. There were flowers on the table- red carnations- and a small, flickering candle. It was all very romantic. It was also very Hal.

"_So_," said Alex, steepling her fingers and resting her pointy chin on top of them. "This is a date, is snit?" Her nose wrinkled up with a pixie grin.

Hal nodded "Of course." His palms were sweating. Actually sweating. He wiped them hastily on his trouser leg.

Alex looked up and around the room, taking in the other tables and couples. "Nice place."

"Yes."

"How'd you find ou'bout it?" Talking to Hal was sometimes like talking to an empty chair. He was really good at not responding.

"Phonebook."

"Do we seriously have a phone book? No, don't answer. Of course we do." She rolled her eyes. "Hey, Hal, the fifties called- they want you back!" Alex laughed her loud, snorting laugh that Hal found utterly adorable. She touched his arm, just a bit flirtily. "But really mate, you are so old-fashioned. Tom told me that you actually still call this, what we're doing right now, _courting_." She made air quotations as she said the word "courting."

"Would you rather I call it "chatting up?"

"I think we're sort of past the chattin' up bit. I mean, I'm _basically_ one of your best mates. Me and Tom. Just be comfortable with me like you are with Tom. Easy peasy summer breezy."

"Yes, but I am not, er, '_romantically interested'_ in Tom." God damn these sweating palms and the way that his head seemed to go empty every time she looked into his eyes!

Alex sat back, her shoulders heaving as she laughed. "Well thank goodness for that, ya numpty!" she gasped. Her wide eyes got all squinty when she laughed, creases forming at their corners. Hal noticed little things like that. She picked up the menu, scanning it. "I can honestly say that I have no idea what any of this is. Nervetti? Bagna Carda? Tortano? Dafty names, those are."

"Pressed beef cartilage!" Hal said, desperate to be of some help

"Eh?" Her eyebrows almost disappeared into her hair.

"Nervetti. It's, ah, pressed cartilage." he scratched the back of his hand.

"Ack, that's pure gingin." she wrinkled up her nose. "And it does not sound like somethin' I'll be trying tonight."

"It's actually not _completely_ revolting. I tried it in Venice in, oh, 1807? I knew an Italian chef. Good man. He introduced me to many strange and wondrous foreign delicacies."

"A vampire chef?" Her interest was piqued.

Hal shifted back in his seat. "Well, no, he was human when I met him."

"Aaah, so you turned him, dinnya?"

"I did not!" He sounded perturbed. "The whole thing took place during one of my periods of abstinence from... vampiric activities. I ran away to Italy. Away from the monsters back home. I thought that a new country, a new language, could free me from the demons of my past. Of course, I was wrong. When they finally caught up to me, I was living above a small restaurant off of one of the canals. It belonged to my friend Alonso and his young wife, Ceria. They were the ones who found me, wandering alone and weak in the streets of Venice. They took me in, gave me lodging and a job in the kitchen." Alex gave him a look of surprise, and he sighed. "The Cafe was not my first place of employment in relations to the food industry, although it was certainly the least glamorous. Scraping boiled fat off that godforsaken griddle."

"Did they know what you were? That man and his family?"

Hal's eyes were growing distant. She'd seen him get like that before. It happened whenever he took a journey back in his mind. A trip back to the painful past of Lord Harry and is merry vampire men. His arms were crossed loosely on the table and he fidgeted with his fingers, running them across the glossy red cover of the menu. "They did," He said. "There were many vampires in Venice in those days. I'd imagine that there were many still, up until yesterday. Vampires from all across the known world. Old, monstrous things and young, in vogue creatures. All of them were monsters of the time. They congregated there, had business dealings with each other and humans alike. Alonso's was a half-way house fro those trying to escape from the thrall of the blood. Trying to be human again. Or at least as human as a hundreds of years old blood-sucking monster can get. I went to Venice to escape, and ran into others of my kind trying to do the same. I found it very heartening. There was Madulah. She was the oldest of all of us. Five hundred years, the last seventy of them sober. She was my sponsor, my rock against the cravings. Cheng-gong was the youngest of us there- both in years of mortality and years of vampire hood. He was just a ten year old child, and a thirty year old vampire. There were others who came and went. Some fell off the wagon, others struck out on journeys to remote parts of the world. Some returned, but many did not. Madulah, Cheng-gong, and I were long-time residents. I spent fifteen years in the care Alonso and his family. They were good people. Better than I deserved.

"When I first decided to go to Venice, it was because I wanted to lose myself. I thought that... If I reverted while i was in Venice, it would not be so hard to cover up. I... was planning ahead." Alex shuddered, and he seemed to notice her for the first time since he'd begun his reverie. "I'm sorry, is this upsetting? I want for us to have a fun night. Not for you to listen to me drone on about things dead and buried. I'm not usually one to reminisce. But now, with the beating heart once more inside my chest, I can't seem to help it!"

"It's only human," she said, gently placing her hand on top of his.

"I suppose." He looked up into her big hazel eyes, with their smiling lines. She was so very kind. The kindest person he'd ever met.

"I don't mind, ya'ken. To tell the truth, it's kind of fascinating, hearing aboot all of the places you've been. Gawd all the things you've seen!" She sat back in her chair, withdrawing her hand. He missed the heat of her touch as soon as it was gone. "I would kill- pun not intended- to experience all of those things. Be the places you've been... christ! It must have been amazing!"

"It was," he admitted. "It was so very amazing. I've seen five hundred years of human history. I was there for it. Part of it. But the things I gave up... God, Alex, it wasn't worth it. None of all those five hundred years was worth it. Not until now." Her heart skipped a beat. "Alex," he cleared his throat nervously. "Erm, would you, uh, do me the honor of becoming my girlfriend?"

She laughed. It wasn't malicious or contemptuous. Just happy and full of light. A laugh like that could brighten even the darkest of his nights. "Of course I will be, ya eejit! For a moment there, I did think you were going to ask me to marry you... That, maybe not so much right now. But date? Hell yes!" Before Hal could even react, she took him by the tie and pulled his mouth to hers. She kissed him hard, passionately. His newly beating heart reached a crescendo. His hand brushed her soft, short hair and she smiled, pulling back. "Before people start staring." She said with a wink.

"That was-"

"Amazing?"

"Yes."

"I've wanted to do that for a long time. You always looked like someone who could use a good snog. But," She steepled her fingers once more, looking at him over their tips. "Your story. I want to hear 'ow it ends."

The story was the farthest thing from his mind at the moment. Luckily, before he could make a fool of himself, the waiter intervened to take their order. It gave him enough time to recollect his scattered thoughts before continuing with his story.

"So Alonso, your mate, ya didn't turn him into a vampire, but, an' catch me if I'm wrong, he _did_ get turned?"

"Yes, he did."

"Wos it one of the other vampire boarders?"

"No, it was Wyndam."

"One of the bloody old ones!" Alex spat.

"Indeed. He'd heard of my reputation as a brutal killer and sadist, and he wanted to meet me in person. When he heard that I'd- to put it in his words- "gone soft" he decided that all I need was a little push to bring me back into the fold. To send a message to other vampires who tried to live a life of abstinence. "_You will always return to us. There is no escape_."

"Sounds like a gang."

Hal nodded. "In many ways, yes. I had been living under Alonso's care for several years. Madulah, Cheng-gong, and I protected him and his family from other vampires just as the protected us from our selves. I was out, hunting down a vampire who'd killed a young girl near us when it happened. We suspected that the killer was one of our flock who'd gone astray. It was my job to hunt them down and kill them. Madulah didn't like killing, and Cheng-gong was too small to be of much help, so I usually took care of things like that. I was a half mile away when I caught the first whiff of smoke. I swear I've never run that fast before..." He gulped. "The building was on fire. Smoke was pouring out from the upper windows, along with broken glass. In the street, I could see the singed clothes and dust of other vampires. Dead. Boarders who'd jumped from the windows above to escape the roaring inferno, only to be met in the streets below by Wyndam's men and their stakes."

He shook his head. "The shop door hung crooked on the frame, half-blocked by a broken table. I broke the door off of it's hinges and crawled inside. Right by the doorway, I found Madulah's sari, full of dust. She'd died trying to keep them out. I found Cheng-gong's clothes as well. They lay crumpled at the feet of a corpse. It was Ceria, Alonso's wife. Her throat was ripped out, blood all over the rubble-strewn floor. The smoke was so thick in the air, I could hardly see. I nearly tripped over the baby. It was... also dead. And Alonso. He was sitting in the middle of it all, at the only table that had been left untouched by the pillaging vampires.

"His hands were folded neatly on the table top. He didn't look up when I clambered in. When I ran to his dead wife and child. His daughter- she was fifteen- was gone. I never found out what happened to her. I don't want to know. I took Alonso by his shoulders, and I shook him, shouting at the back of his head 'Who did this to you! Tell me!' At last, he turned. So slowly. It seemed to take ages. He looked up at me, and his warm brown eyes transmuted to black. 'You did!' he hissed through his fangs, standing to face me."

Hal went quiet. Alex was worried that he was upset. His voice had become almost robotic as he related the tale to her. His eyes were as distant as she'd ever seen them. Finally, his eyes came back to her. They were sad, but not empty. He took her hand, more for his own comfort than hers. "After that, he walked away, into the flames by the stairs. He didn't make a sound as they devoured him whole. I ran out of there. Out of there and into the clutches of my other self. When I finally met Wyndam, it was as Lord Harry."


	12. Dates II

**Thank you to all my patient readers! I've not been updating as frequently as I'd like to, but hey, what can I say? It's a busy world! As always I am eternally grateful to all of you out there who read and review what I write! Especially big thanks to NoraFreeze- that little bit of encouragement was sorely needed! :)**

**All of these delightful characters and the world they inhabit belong to the BBC.**

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><p>Hal remained quiet while their dinner was served, barely acknowledging the waiter's arrival. He hardly ate. Then again, he hardly ever did eat. Nevertheless, Alex was worried that she'd upset him. Too much digging into that tempestuous past of his. reminiscing was not his forte. He was hard to talk to.<p>

As much as she liked him, she often had difficulty finding ways to make conversation. There was a five hundred year difference between them. She nearly giggled. What would Da think of that? Her dating a much-much-much older man. Taking him home to meet the family... _Woah wait. Hold up. Backtracking here. Introducing Hal to the family? Like actually putting them in a situation where they had to interact? _The idea conjured up some hilarious images. Hal playing swing ball in back. Wearing a sweaty jersey and snibs spattered with grey Welsh mud. Sipping a cuppa in their clatty living room, laughing it up with Decky and her dad. Climbing the stairs to her bedroom... She gulped, looking down at her dish. She'd need to figure something out before any of that could have a chance of happening. But maybe someday...

They could go on holiday together, and maybe bring Tom along with them. Correction. _Definitely_ bring Tom. She couldn't imagine leaving him all by his lonesome in the B & B. Ack, the trouble he'd be liable to get himself in. Homemade bombs and the like. He could be just as much a danger to himself as to others. He was like a small child, only he was also totally capable of making high-caliber explosions and beating the shit out of people.

"I might be getting a raise. At the Hotel, I mean." Hal said quietly, looking up at her over his picked-over dish. She looked back at him, her eyes refocusing from their day-dream. She'd become a little lost in her imaginings and musings. Forgotten that the real deal was sitting right in front of her.

"Yeah? That's good." She said with less enthusiasm than she intended. Hal misinterpreted her distraction as disinterest. He wilted. Alex was beginning to realize that he was very good at wilting. Very good at playing the misanthropic gentleman. She wondered how much of Hal was an act, and how, exactly she could get to the real bit of him. The "Hal" part of Hal, as it were.

"Backtracking. I dinnae mean it like that..." She corrected. "I'm really excited for you Hal."

"I am worried as to how Tom will take it." Hal pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and exhaled. A state of contemplation. "He's so competitive... I don't want us to have another _misunderstanding_."

"By 'misunderstanding' do you mean a dobberin' food fight? 'cause I wouldn't mind sitting in on another one a' those." she clapped her hands. "By the way, are you actually planning on eating that?" He looked down at his food and shrugged, pushing it over to her. "Trying to keep up your girlish figure?"

"What? No. _No_. It's just that I don't dance well on a full stomach."

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><p><strong>Apologies for the brevity! <strong>


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